Romantic Revenge
by starsofimagination
Summary: When John is killed, Mary and Sherlock promise to avenge him by going after the man that killed him. Neither of them planned on how close it would bring them together.
1. Chapter 1

Be smart, be quick, and most importantly, be quiet.

They were words by which Mary lived. If she weren't smart, quick, or quiet she was dead. Just one mistake could be the difference between going on and living her life and laying in a pool of her own blood dying. Luckily, Mary didn't make mistakes. Or rather she hadn't made a mistake since she first started her career in the CIA, which was almost twenty years ago.

She stared at her gun and silencer in her hand. The weight of it felt heavy and uncomfortable. It never used to feel that way. She used to enjoy that gun. It was her friend and her protector, and now it was a tool for revenge.

Her eyes glanced at a picture on her bed side table. It was one of her and John during their first Christmas together. They had been so happy and carefree. Neither of them had any idea of what was coming. Neither of them knew that in two short years John would be dead.

Mary tore her eyes away from the photo and grabbed the clip of ammunition and shoved it in the gun. One week, that's all it took for her world to shatter. She asked him to be careful, begged him to keep his gun on him at all times. After all, Sebastian Moran was unpredictable.

Sherlock and John had been tracking Moriarty's right hand man for the last month. Ever since they discovered he was the source of Moriarty's "Did you miss me" video, Moran had been top priority on both men's lists. John was constantly at 221b, only coming home for an occasional meal and changes of clothes. He insisted that Mary stayed out of this, but she didn't listen. While John and Sherlock were out running about London, she was working on leads and sending them to Sherlock.

Then one night, everything changed.

John came home and ate dinner with her. They talked about the case and somehow the conversation turned to children. They both wanted them and were talking of trying for a baby once this Moran business was through. Before John left to go back to Sherlock's, he kissed her lips, told her he loved her, and then left. A short time later she received a text from John asking her not to wait up for him as he and Sherlock caught a lead and were going after Moran. She told him to be careful and he responded that he would. That was the last time she heard from him.

It was close to two in the morning when Mary woke up to banging on the front door. She rolled out of bed, checked her phone, and went downstairs. Blue flashing lights filled the room. "Oh you two, what have you done now?" She asked herself, expecting to see Sherlock and John at the door when she opened it. Instead it was Greg.

"Mary...I'm sorry...It's John," he said gravely.

"No," was all Mary said. She didn't need him to tell her what happened. She already knew.

The pain she had felt that night was indescribable. She had never cried so much in her life. She didn't even cry that much when her parents died. The worst part was when Sherlock came and sat with her.

"I'm sorry," he had said. His face was void of emotion, but Mary knew that once he was alone, he would let his pain out. "I was too late…"

She buried her face in his coat and sobbed despite it being covered in blood. "I'll make him pay," she vowed once she gained control of her breathing. "I'll kill him. He took John from me...from us….I'll kill him."

"So will I. We both will."

And it was then that they both set out to track down Moran and avenge John, despite orders from both Scotland Yard and Mycroft to back off the case.

"Are you ready?"

Mary snapped from her thoughts and looked up to see Sherlock standing in the doorway. Over the last week he had been her rock. He kept her busy, made sure she ate and slept, allowed her to weep and break things as she grieved. And in turn, she did the same for him. Though Sherlock didn't weep openly like she had, but she was there for him when he needed someone. He had become the best friend she had ever had.

"I'm ready," Mary whispered as she stood and tucked her gun into her coat. "Are you?"

He simply nodded once. "According to my homeless network, Moran was spotted on a train north and then disappeared at a station in Hertfordshire. I suspect he may be heading to Scotland. Moriarty had safe houses in the Highlands."

Mary nodded and shouldered her ruck suck and equipment bag. "Then that's where we'll go." She glanced at the picture on the nightstand one more time. "For John."

"For John."


	2. Chapter 2

_He was begging for his life as he stared up at the barrel of the gun pointed at him. She loved how they begged. They always begged in the end. With an almost silent popping noise, the man fell over, a bullet hole through his skull and his eyes wide open in fear. She left the way she came, out the window and down the lattice. She disposed of her equipment and made her way to a pay phone several blocks away. She dialed the number without even thinking and waited._

_"It's done," she said when the line was answered._

_"Did he beg, Amanda?" The voice on the other end asked._

_"They always do. So when am I getting paid?"_

_"Patience, dear. Jim is a very busy man after all."_

_"I mean it, Moran. I want my money on time. Tickets from Utah to England aren't cheap."_

_"It'll be in your account by morning."_

_"Thank you."_

"Mary?"

Mary turned her head from the countryside that was zooming by outside the car to Sherlock. "Sorry. What?"

"We're coming up to the station. Question the attendants at the ticket booths," Sherlock said not taking his eyes off the road.

Mary nodded and looked back out the window. "Have you ever been to Scotland?" She asked after a moment.

"More times than I care for. Sometimes for a case, other times because of some stupid event my dearest brother dragged me to. It's boring. Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Just curious."

"Have you?"

Mary thought the question over. Well it didn't matter now. She really had no reason to hide anything about her past. "Mary has been to Scotland once for holiday with her parents before they died, but I've been there many times. Much like you, most times were...work related."

"I know. I read your files."

Mary turned her head so quickly she was sure she was about to snap it off. "You read what was on the USB stick?"

"Someone had to. John refused and I was curious. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Then you know about-"

"Moran?" Sherlock finished. "And Moriarty. I know. You were a contract killer for Moriarty when you left the CIA. You were on the run and needed money. Moriarty had money and liked your skill set so he hired you. But you didn't have much contact with him. Your orders came from Moran, passed down from Moriarty. But then an interesting thing happened, you stopped working for Moriarty, but you didn't say why."

"Would you believe me if I said I realized what an awful person he was and didn't want to work for him?" Mary asked as she leaned back in her seat.

"It's believable, given the time you ended your contract with him and the time your alias became Mary Morstan. You were genuine in your intentions to start your life anew. That's how I know you weren't involved in any of this."

Mary nodded and fell quiet. Her mind played back what Sherlock said about John refusing to read her files. She was always amazed and thankful that he had forgiven her at Christmas time, but a small part always wondered if he had read it and just said he didn't. She felt an overwhelming sense of relief knowing for sure that he never read anything.

"He would have still loved you," Sherlock said, as though he knew what she was thinking. "He never stopped loving you. Even after he moved back into 221b for those few months. Granted, he would have been furious and trusted you less...but he wouldn't have stopped loving you."

"It's just...nice knowing that he didn't actually read it. I always thought if he had read it, he would have hated me. Especially if he found out I worked for Moriarty."

"If it matters, none of that matters to me," Sherlock then said glancing briefly at her. "That's what you're supposed to say, right? When you care about someone enough to look beyond their past?"

She gave him a small smile. "Yes, that's what you're supposed to say." She watched as his lips formed the tiniest of smiles.

Sherlock pulled the car into the station and parked before getting out without another word. Mary followed after him, keeping a distances of a few steps. "You know, Sherlock, I think you're starting to understand human nature," she whispered before going to the ticket booth to question the attendants.


End file.
